


Peter Parker's Day Off

by silentwhisper002



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky is Peter's Favorite Uncle (Don't Tell Clint), Day Around Town, Day Off, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Flash Thompson Being A Jerk, Fluff, Fluff More Tooth-Rotting than the Ice Cream, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Ice Cream, Ice Cream Parlors, M/M, Now I Really Want Ice Cream, Peter Gets a Break, Peter is Having a Shitty Week, Sam and Bucky are Good Uncles, Skipping Class, Spin Off of Ferris Buler, Strawberry Swirl Ice Cream, Terrible-Horrible-No-Good-Very-Bad-2-Days, WinterFalcon - Freeform, ice cream makes everything better
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:11:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22812079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silentwhisper002/pseuds/silentwhisper002
Summary: Life is not going well for Peter, but thankfully Sam and Bucky are here to make it better.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark
Comments: 2
Kudos: 41





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi and welcome to another one of my excuses to write some more WinterFalcon with the headcanon that Bucky is a precious bean

If Alexander’s Terrible-Horrible-No-Good-Very-Bad-Day consisted of gum in his hair and a lack of artistic talent, then Alexander had nothing on Peter Parker.

How about _Peter Parker and the Terrible-Horrible-Shit-Show that was his week._

So far he’d lost three of his backpacks, been tortured by flash in every class period, tripped in the lunch room and dropped his pizza (a truly tragic event indeed), and gotten a B-minus on his Spanish Exam. A _B-minus!_

Not to mention, it was only Wednesday.

So when Peter’s alarm went off at 6am Wednesday morning, he was not a happy spider.

Peter reached out an arm and blindly slammed on the snooze button. Pulling the red and yellow, Iron Man-themed comforter further over his head, he let out a groan of annoyance.

“It’s too early for this.”

Curling further into the mattress, he attempted to fall back a sleep for however long the paused alarm would allow him, but his plans were foiled by a bright light blasting onto his face.

Cracking a brown eye open, Peter was able to make out the blurry form of the culprit.

Tony stood in the hall, a hand against the doorframe with a firm look on his face.

“Alright kid, get up.”

Peter released another small whine in response, but the billionaire wasn’t having it.

“Come on Pete, before I call Barton in here."

At this, Peter decided to weigh his options. He could either get up now and be very tired, but acquire no injuries, or he could sleep for another three minutes, and end up sacrificing his rib cage to a 180 pound child.

Muttering inaudible profanities to himself, he opted for the former, and forced himself out of the bed.

“Good choice” Tony told him, raising the steaming mug he was holding in praise, “Bruce was getting tired of patching you up every morning. Now get out here, Bucky made pancakes.”

Peter perked up a little at the mention of his uncle’s superb cooking skills. No one made pancakes like Bucky.

“What kind?” Peter asked, as he bounced down the hall after his father. The promise of pancakes had made the start of his day a little brighter.

Tony shrugged. “Don’t know. It smells like chocolate though.”

Oh, yes it did indeed.

When Peter stepped into the kitchen, (still dressed in his Ninja Turtle pajamas because who has time to get dressed before breakfast?) the smell of fresh chocolate hit him like a bullet train.

Dr. Strange may be the Sorcerer Supreme of New York, but Bucky worked real magic when it came to the kitchen.

Climbing onto a counter chair, Peter said his “Good mornings” to those who were assembled in the communal area, pouring himself a glass of apple juice from the pitcher that had already been placed out in preparation for his arrival.

Looking around, Peter noticed that very few of the Avengers were present this morning. Bucky and Sam stood by the stove as always, and Tony was across from him, reading the paper. Other than that it was bare.

Taking a large sip of his juice, Peter put his glasse down with a _“CLUNK”_ and tapped his father’s hand to get his attention.

“Hmm?” Tony responded without looking up.

“Where is everybody?”

Sam turned from his conversation with Bucky, twirling a spatula in his hand as he spoke. “Wanda and Vision took the cats to the vet, everyone else decided on 4am training.”

“Weirdos.” Bucky added in, “Who gets excited about waking up at 4am?”

“Not me.” Tony said, getting up from the table and placing his mug in the sink, “That’s bedtime in my world.”

He kissed Peter on the top of the head as he walked out, bidding him farewell. “Have a good day at school kid. And not too much juice okay?”

Peter nodded, yet at the mention of school, his morale instantly dropped. Bucky seemed to notice this as he placed a plate of piping hot pancakes in front of the younger Avenger.

“What’s on your mind Pete?”

Peter shrugged as he picked at his pancakes, stuffing a big bit into his mouth.

“It’s been a bad week.” he said once he’d finished.

Handing the spatula off to Sam, Bucky pulled out a chair and sat across from the teen.

“A bad week? It’s only Wednesday kid.”

“I know, but I already lost three of my backpacks and did really bad on my Spanish Exam.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. He seemed to know how much Peter over-exaggerated about his grades. “Oh really?”

“I got a B-minus Uncle Bucky.”

Sam snickered from the stove, but Bucky waved him off. “Well I’m sorry to hear that. But maybe today will be better.”

“I don’t think so.” Peter responded, continuing to inhale his breakfast.

“Why not?” Sam asked, joining in on the conversation as he put the rest of the pancakes away for later.

Peter shrugged again, not wanting to let on how much Flash was getting to him. He was Spider-Man. He couldn’t dwell on these things.

“Peter…” Bucky pressed.

“Fine.” he sighed, “Flash and his friends have been hounding on me worse than normal.”

To this, Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Have you spoken to your dad about it?”

Peter looked down at his now empty plate. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his dad. He knew Tony only wanted the best for him, but he had a tendency to overreact sometimes, not to mention that he knew the older man was dealing with demons of his own. Peter didn’t think it was fair to burden him with more.

That’s why he normally went to Bucky and Sam about these kinds of things. They were much less intense when it came to finding solutions.

“No.” he muttered.

“Kid, why not?” Sam asked, joining the other two at the table.

“Can I go now? I’m going to be late.” He tried to avoid Sam’s question with another of his own.

The two looked conflicted, but ultimately let the boy pass.

However, Peter knew that this conversation was far from over.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now...The Continuation of "Peter Parker's Day Off"

When Peter arrived at school, he did his best to keep a cool face, but he could feel his chipper morale slowly crumble when he spotted Flash and his friends at the door. Ducking his head, he made a silent prayer that they’d just let him pass, but the chances of that happening were about zero to none. Slowly making his way up the sidewalk, Peter kept his eyes zeroed in on the cracks that snaked through the concrete. 

_Don’t look up._

_Don’t look up._

_Don’t look—_

“Hey Penis!”

_Shit._

He tried to keep walking, but one of them shoved his foot into Peter’s path, tripping him up.

Losing his balance, the weight of Peter’s backpack was ultimately his downfall as gravity yanked him to the ground. 

He shut his eyes upon the impact, rolling to the side, letting out a low hiss while sharp pain spread throughout his shoulder. 

A few of Flash’s friends laughed and elbowed one another at the scene, while the antagonist himself stood smugly over Peter’s crumpled form. “You should really look where you’re walking Penis. Don’t want to make yourself look like more of a fool than you already are.” 

Peter glared at Flash as he picked himself up off the pavement. He decided to just shoved past them, not giving any response. Peter knew that he had the ability to put Flash in the hospital for a good week or so, but he wasn’t that kind of person. And besides, puny Peter Parker beating up Flash after years of doing nothing? His secret would be out. Everybody would know he was Spiderman, or at least be able to piece it together. 

So he ignored the torture, instead hoping that one day they’d move onto the next thing. However, good old Parker Luck never seemed to let that happen.

* * *

By the time Peter reached his locker, his mood had significantly dropped.

He harshly spun the dial on his locker, just wanting to get this heavy bag off his back and get to class so he could sleep through another chemistry lesson. He knew Tony wanted him to have a normal life which inevitably included school, but what was the point of going when you were already 3 years ahead of the _seniors_?

Yanking down on his combo lock in attempt to open the door, he found that somehow it had gotten stuck. 

Peter pulled a few more times, but the metal hanger wouldn’t budge. 

“No need to keep harassing your lock Peter, I’m pretty sure it’s already dead.”

Peter threw his head up toward the ceiling, strands of curly brown hair drifting to the side of his face with the sudden movement. 

“Not the time Ned.” he groaned, glancing over at his friend.

Ned stood against the bordering locker, with his black backpack hanging loosely over a flannel clad shoulder, a sympathetic look plastered on his face.

Peter gave up on the locker and stood with his back against the cold metal structure, rubbing his arm which was sore from his earlier battle with the pavement.

“Bad morning?” The other asked.

Peter shrugged. “Bucky made me pancakes.”

“Then why the long face? You know I would—“

“Kill to have the Winter Soldier make you pancakes?” Peter finished for him, “I know, you’ve told me. It’s just Flash. He’s being a pain again.”

“Yeah, well, when is he not?”

Peter didn’t respond.

Ned threw a friendly arm around Peter’s shoulder, and guided him down the hall through the swarming crowds of other students. “Hey, cheer up. It’s not even 8am yet. It’s way too early to classify this day as horrible. Besides, MJ said she brought cookies.”

“Ten bucks says she put poison in them.”

“Twenty bucks says she brought a second clean batch for us and plans on giving the bad ones to everyone else.”

“Sold.”

The two boys laughed at each other as they entered the first class of the day. 

Peter did his best to pay attention to what was going on in the front of the room, but ultimately the darkened shade from the dull eggshell color of the concrete walls mixed with the sound of his teacher’s voice, droning on and on about things he’d learned when he was eight, began to put him to sleep. It wasn’t until Mr. Harrington was yelling his name that Peter finally gave him his full attention. 

“…arker! PARKER!”

Peter’s head snapped up, causing his forehead to collide with the table upon recoil. 

“What?” He asked, scanning the board and trying to formulate some kind of brilliant, five-star bullshit to answer whatever had just been asked.

The tall man sighed, running a hand through his sandy hair. “Had you been paying attention, you’d have heard me calling you the first three times. You’re wanted in the office.”

“Huh?” Peter automatically looked at Ned for any kind of clearance as to what was going on, but the other boy’s dark eyes reflected the same confusion as his own. 

_“What did I do?”_ Peter mouthed.

Ned shrugged. _“I don’t know.”_

“Parker?” Mr. Harrington called again, his sharp blue gaze growing narrow and impatient, “Are you going to sit there all day?”

“N-no sir.” Peter stammered, rising abruptly from his seat.

Now wide awake, He scrambled to gather his things—including his heavy backpack which he’d been forced to take with him—in a timely fashion to keep his teacher from getting anymore irritated than he already was. 

Peter exited the classroom and anxiously walked down the empty halls, keeping his gaze trained on the tan and gray tiles of Midtown’s floors. 

_What could they possibly want me for? Was it something I did? Was it something Flash did? Oh Lord, he’s probably spreading rumors about me again. Please don’t let them have called Tony. That’s about the_ last _thing I need today._

However, when he entered the decorative yellow office of the Dean of Students, it was not Tony he saw, but a large man in jeans and a soft blue sweater that clearly concealed a dark metal arm. 

“Uncle Bucky?”

_The fuck?_

A large, friendly smile crossed Bucky’s face when he saw Peter, but the glint of mischief in the Winter Soldier’s blue eyes told the teen that he was up to something.

The Dean, a shorter asian man, handed Bucky a hard brown clipboard and a blue ink pen. “Just sign him out and he’s all yours Mr. Barnes. I hope all goes well with the doctor Peter.”

_What?_

“Yes, thank you.” Bucky responded before Peter could get a word out, handing the form back. He politely tipped the edge of the star dotted navy baseball cap he was always wearing upon their exit. When questioned, Bucky said it was because too much light hurt his eyes, but everyone knew the real reason was because Sam had gotten it for him.

Throwing his good arm around the worn blue material of the sweatshirt that covered Peter’s back, he led him out of the office. 

“Uncle Bucky what're you doing here? And where are we going?”

Instead of giving him a straight response, Bucky wrinkled his nose in disgust. “I hated high school. And they smell terrible too.”

“Uncle Bucky,” Peter pressed, “I _know_ I don’t have a doctor’s appointment today. Dad always takes me to those because he knows it annoys Dr.Strange when he’s there.”

Pushing open the front door, Bucky came to a halt, stopping Peter along with him. 

“You’re right. I lied. There’s no appointment.”

“So then what’s going on? Is someone in trouble? Wait a second, is Dad lost in space again?”

Bucky chuckled at Peter’s curiosity and shook his head, his long brown hair swishing lightly with his laughter. “No Pete. You just seemed so upset this morning, that Sam and I decided you needed a day off.”

“Like Ferris Buler?” 

Bucky looked confused at the reference, but nodded his head, pretending he knew what the fuck the boy was talking about. “Yeah, sure, like Ferris Buler.”

Peter grinned at the older man’s confusion. “So where are we _really_ going?”

Bucky shrugged as they continued their walk to the car. “A little place I like to call _Jerry’s Pizzeria._ ”

Peter’s eyes immediately lit up at the mention of one of his favorite places on earth. 

“And,” Bucky continued, “If you eat all your vegetables, there might be some ice cream involved. But don’t tell Strange.”

The young teen rolled his eyes at the remark. Doctor Strange was always warning Peter about the dangers of lactose and sugar. 

“He never lets me do anything fun.”

“I know. That’s why he wasn’t invited.”

As they approached the shiny black vehicle—similar to the one Happy drove him to and from school in—Peter could see the tall figure of Sam Wilson leaning against the outer surface. 

“Took you long enough.” He quipped—in good fun of course—slipping an arm around Bucky’s waist. 

“You know high schools, they’re very picky about who they let in.” The super soldier responded. 

Making a face of agreement, Sam opened the door for Peter. 

“Get in loser, we’re skipping school today.”

  
  



End file.
